


Ivy Grown

by SleepyBanshee



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heroes & Heroines, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, adult layla and warren, everyone in the sky high universe is gay, i'll be adding more as the fic progresses, layla is definitely a badass bisexual flower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-02-27 05:11:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13241124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyBanshee/pseuds/SleepyBanshee
Summary: It had been awhile since Layla felt any sort of true understanding with someone. An intimacy she had not had in a year or so. Yet, here she sat, in a pub across from Warren, drinking hot chocolate in Scotland, and she felt so deeply understood.“It’s like I’ve made you eat shitty food and given you plants that you begrudgingly took care of before.” Layla finally replied getting her purse together in order to leave.“Yeah,” Warren told her softly. “It’s exactly like that.”





	1. Betony

The last place Layla expected to find Warren Peace was standing on the ruins of Urqhart castle looking out at Loch Ness in the Highlands of Scotland. She took a moment to study him. His tan skin seemed faded in the overcast sky, the red streaks in his hair more natural than the chunks of bright red he had had in high school. His hair was pulled back into a bun to keep stay pieces from covering his face. His muscles were more defined. His broad shoulders looked braced against the sting of cold wind. Layla thought he looked steadier. The traces of barely contained rage no longer surrounded him, both as a shield and as the chip off his shoulder. It had been three years since Layla had seen him. Every year the Sky High gang got together to catch up, as everyone had scattered around the world after graduating, but last year Layla had been unable to attend. The year before that everyone’s schedules were uncooperative, so Magenta was the only person Layla had seen from the old squad that year. Three years ago Warren couldn’t make it. While everyone was on a group email thread, she hadn’t seen him or spoken to him one on one in awhile.

But Layla was happy to see him. His presence added a familiarity that Layla hadn’t realized she missed. Scotland was Layla’s choice to be right now. The nature was untouched and free and she could feel and gain energy from it, while still having city amenities. She worked with the UN climate change initiative and often traveled the world to help build crops and feed low income and homeless people. She didn’t think most people at Sky High would necessarily view her work as super, but it felt like it to her. It made her feel like she was actually helping. Even when she was placed in the “sidekick” track at Sky High, she always realized that the accolades and attention wasn’t something that she strove for or accepted gracefully for that matter. She preferred to fly under the radar, so to speak.

Layla got up from the bench and walked over to him. He was still staring out over the lake completely lost in thought. She smiled to herself at the fact that Warren Peace finally had found peace. She imagined the eye roll that would garner if she said it outloud. 

“Come here often?” She smirked as she noted the quick snap of his neck to her voice and the genuine surprise that washed over his face as he recognized Layla. The ease was back in his shoulders once he realized it wasn’t a threat, that knowledge had Layla grinning more.

“Definitely. Ruins, especially burned castles, are my hangout now.”

“Exactly how many burned castles do you know of?”

“At least three here in Scotland alone.” 

“Be honest, were the castles burned before you got there?” She teased. At this Warren turned completely from the lake and bent down to give Layla a hug. She wrapped her arms somewhat rigidly around his neck and carefully pushed her face into the crook of his neck. His hands at her waist tightened as he felt her breath and cold nose press into his skin. Layla always loved the touch of other people, but her movements had always been carefree and light. She could feel him registering the change of her touch, the questions forming in his mind. She pulled away.

“What are you doing here?” She asked finally after she felt his inquisitive gaze.

“A buddy of mine I met a few years ago asked if I could come and teach at the UK’s version of Sky High for the year. Thought it sounded like a nice change of pace. You?”

“I live here.” At his raised brow she clarified “Well, technically I live in Edinburgh, but most weekends I come up here. It re-energizes me.” 

“Well it certainly provides plenty of fresh air.” His words held a double meaning for Layla to pick up. There is plenty of nature. “I’m living in Edinburgh too. That’s where the boarding school is. I didn’t realize I would be seeing a friendly face, or I would’ve reached out.”

“Yeah, only Magenta knows I am here right now, and my dad.” Layla paused and turned back to look at Loch Ness. “Have you eaten?” Layla asked without turning her head from the lake. 

“I haven’t,” Warren said after a beat. “Know anywhere good?”

“Only the perfect little pub about fifteen minutes from here. Care to join me? We can look around a bit longer if you’d like.”

“Nah, once you’ve seen one burned castle ruin you’ve seen them all, besides I’m hungry. Let’s go get lunch.” He motioned for Layla to lead the way but felt the warmth from his overheated body close behind her. She mentally kicked herself for acting so different, but she was tired and Warren, well, he seemed to always have the knack of direct access to her feelings. Besides maybe this was just grown up Layla. Still whip smart and fighting the systems that seemed unjust and unfair. She still had her biting wit and humor, but she also had seen things, terrible things, that darkened her over the years. She surmised that before her aura would’ve shone bright yellow and true green and was now dimmed and distorted with brown. The colors washing together sloppily. It was foolish for her to chastise herself for becoming a different person, a changed person. After all, she knew that things grew and flourished at the same time they withered. It was the same for humans too.

The drive to the pub was spent in quiet. Warren only arriving a few days ago was still enamored with the rolling hills, mountains, and lush green everywhere. Layla was more than content to sit in silence surrounded by the beauty. They arrived at the pub, parked, and walked to her usual table, nestled into a small booth in the corner that sat directly in front of floor to ceiling windows overlooking a smaller lake (Loch).

She ordered a hot chocolate and Warren ordered a coffee, black. She felt his gaze on her face and turned to look at him fully.

“You’re different.” He finally said.

“You are too. You seem settled, peaceful. The rage feels controlled.” She noticed the uptick of his mouth and a slow smirk settled on his face at the comment.

“You seem stormier than your usual sunny disposition. It suits you. You were always a force to be reckoned with but it feels weightier now.”

“A lot has happened in the last three years.” Layla replied detached.

“I gathered. I got together with Will about a year ago. Said you broke up with him. He was upset, but seemed prepared for it too. What happened?” Warren questioned kindly. 

Layla took a sip of her hot chocolate and thought about how to describe the break. It had shocked most of their friend group, but Will had seen it coming. It made sense to Will and Layla, especially Layla, but everyone assumed they were destined to get married, have babies, become the superhero family to replace Will’s parents.

“We had different ideas on how to save the world.” She said, at this Warren nodded seeming to understand more than any of her friends did when she gave them the same answer. Even Magenta wasn’t satisfied with that explanation. 

“Sky High doesn’t really teach any other way to be a hero, do they? It’s a narrow definition that ignores heroics in different forms.” Warren replied thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, totally. I changed too… I guess. I mean, we all grow, and change and cycle. But usually you grow together, and well…I think we grew apart. I…I grew apart.” Layla finally decided on. After all, hadn’t Will stayed mostly the same? The old Layla felt confident by his side, loved having him as a best friend and a partner in every sense of the word. But after everything, now it seemed that his light, and easy nature, his desire to be a famous superhero seemed wildly different from the life Layla wanted, the life she was living. “Some big things happened to me and I just became someone who needed different things. I think Will sensed it for awhile, but I also think he figured it was a phase that I would eventually get out of. He understood it, but it still hit him hard.”

Warren nodded at this. “I get that. I do. I mean I am about to teach a shit ton of teenagers how to be a hero, and I don’t even want to be one. Not in the traditional sense of the word. I thought maybe teaching them to be critical and helping a hot head or two might be more fulfilling and rewarding than my normal superhero gig. I changed too.”

Layla tilted her head with a small smile formed on her lips. “I honestly would pay money to hear kids call you Mr. Peace and to see you teach.” Warren shook his head and rolled his eyes at her. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Warren replied, but his cheeks had a faint blush to them. 

“When does the school year start?” Layla questioned the smile slowly fading as she took a sip of her hot chocolate. 

“In one week. I’ve been trying to get settled and get my apartment together. How long have you been in Scotland, Layla?” 

“Uh, about three months.” Warren noticed her brow furrowed and her teasing stopped. She looked tired and Warren wanted to immediately talk about everything she had been through the last few years to figure out how bright and sunny Layla isolated herself from everyone. She was still radiant and powerful, but he was worried. He hoped she would stay in Scotland for awhile. It was good to see her. 

“You know, usually I can’t get you to shut up. Now here I am asking all the questions that would normally set you off and I can’t get any details?” Warren smirked as she rolled her eyes at him. Warren absently noted that rolled eyes might just be their mutual language.

“Ha. ha. I don’t know. I’m not sure where to start...or that I want to start right now. What have you been up to these three years?” She questioned and raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge. Warren hesitated as he rubbed the back of his neck with this hand and looked at her chuckling. 

“Okay. Fair. How about we exchange phone numbers and ride home back to the city together in companionable silence and make plans for you to invade my apartment with shitty food and way to many plants another day?” Layla smiled broadly and felt her chest warm at Warren Peace sitting in front of her offering her nothing but to sit and be with her and plan to do it more. It had been awhile since Layla felt any sort of true understanding with someone. An intimacy she had not had in a year or so. Yet, here she sat, in a pub across from Warren, drinking hot chocolate in Scotland, and she felt so deeply understood. 

“It’s like I’ve made you eat shitty food and given you plants that you begrudgingly took care of before.” Layla finally replied getting her purse together in order to leave. 

“Yeah,” Warren told her softly. “It’s exactly like that.” He stood with her and followed her out the door. On the way to the car he caught himself about to rest his hand on the small of her back. He shook his head slightly and got into the passenger side door glancing over at Layla as she turned on some truly shitty girl band mix CD and smirked at him knowingly. She pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road and back towards the city.


	2. Hydrangea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Layla surprises Warren with food and a TV Show on a Tuesday night.

Two weeks after Layla and Warren met at Urqhart Castle Layla pulled up to a small flat holding four large canvas totes filled with food, movies, and plants. She contemplated sending a text announcing her arrival, but dismissed it quickly. Let’s be real, Layla thought, he’s used to unannounced visits from her. She knocked on his flat door and heard a muffled “just a second” before a rumpled Warren was opening the door while pulling his hair into a bun. He gave Layla a small smile before narrowing his eyes at the packed backs hanging on her arms. 

“Are you moving in and you forgot to tell me?” Warren snarked while opening the door for Layla to shuffle in. 

“I am. I thought, what would be better than having access to a hothead twenty-four seven?” She smiled. 

“Hey, I hear it gets fucking cold in Scotland. You’d be lucky to have your own free personal heater,” Warren called as Layla walked straight into the kitchen to unload the food on the small wooden table. After all the food was laid out, Layla started opening cabinets in search of utensils and plates. 

“You’re knack for immediately owning any space is truly impressive.” Warren informed her. Layla turned away from the cabinets, finding what she needed, and headed to the table. 

“I like to be comfortable.” Layla said primly while loading her place with an obscene amount of Thai fried rice. “Grab me a beer?” She asked as she scooped up her plate and grabbed one of her canvas bags. Layla walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, food in front of her, as Warren walked in a few minutes later carrying two beers and his plate. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Layla turned slightly to Warren. 

“So how are your students, Mr. Peace?” She teased and gently nudged his thigh with her knee. Warren snorted softly. 

“Good. Annoying as hell. I have a mini Stronghold in one of my classes and it’s painful.” Layla smiled slightly. 

“Yeah? Any mini yous?” Layla asked as she took another bite of her food. 

“Actually, yeah.” Warren said slowly taking a sip of his beer as Layla looked over with renewed focus and raised both her eyebrows. “I thought about doing the whole relatable ‘I get your tough act. I’ve done it all before’ thing, but felt like that’s been too played out.” 

“Probably a smart move,” Layla agreed. “What did you do instead?” 

“I tripped him on purpose, but pretended it was an accident when he was being an obnoxious asshole at the beginning of class yesterday.” 

“Oh my god,” Layla got out barely managing not to spray the sip of beer she had just taken. “I cannot believe that you are the responsible adult in that class.” Layla laughed out while Warren looked over her giggling form. 

Layla caught his eye and and blushed slightly at the (figurative and literal) warmth coming from him as he looked at her. She missed him so much. She felt brighter right now than she had in the past two years. Right now she was safe, and understood, and she had eaten a ridiculous amount of food. It was easier after her and Warren split up after driving back to Edinburgh together a few weeks ago to tell herself that the warm feelings had been due to seeing an old friend after so much time. Any old friend. But now with a smile she was unable to keep off of her face it was hard to deny it might just be because of Warren. She doubted the blush on her cheeks would be a fixed feature if she grabbed dinner with Zach. 

“I know,” Warren finally got out, “It’s a mystery, but I think I’m actually doing okay. Purposefully tripping a student aside.”

“I know you’re doing great. As evidenced by all of our late night chats at The Paper Lantern and, well, tonight, you can be very patient when you need to be.” Layla sobered slightly trying to infuse all of the confidence she had in Warren into the conversation. She reminded herself that she really doesn’t know what led Warren to leave his hero gig and come to another country to teach. 

“I know this will be a huge shock, but it wasn’t actually that hard to listen to your problems all these years.” Warren admitted finally looking away from Layla. 

“Really?” Layla asked grinning. “Your grumpy expressions and snide comments suggested otherwise.” 

Warren shaked his head and changed the subject. “So what’s the plan for tonight besides you unpacking all of your belongings since you are apparently moving in.” 

“Ha, ha.” Layla sarcastically shot back and she set her plate on the coffee table as she dug around her canvas tote pulling out a dvd set. “We are watching Yuri on Ice!!! Have you seen it?” Layla asked excitedly. 

“Is this the gay ice skating anime show?” Warren asked eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

“You know it!” Layla exclaimed. “Nothing like some cheesy romantic guy on guy with medals and perfect quads at stake to have a good night. I bet all your high school students will think you’re really cool if you watch this.” 

Warren snorted, “God, I had forgotten how much of a total nerd and goofball you are. How were you popular in high school again?” 

“I think it had something to do with blowing out all the windows in the school and then helping to save everyone’s lives at 15. It really inspires loyalty and badass points.” Layla replied as she got up in to put the first disc into the dvd player. 

“Fuck,” Layla heard Warren say as she turned back to him. 

“What?” She asked. 

“It’s subtitled. You want me to watch hours of subtitled gay ice skating?” Warren asked incredulous. 

“Okay, first of all it’s fucking great so shush about the gay ice skating. Second of all, didn’t you date a super hot dude gymnast like 4 years ago? Third of all, what else could you possibly be doing on a Tuesday night that tops hanging out with your favorite person while watching gay ice skating anime?” Layla finished staring at him from in front of the television with both hands on her hips. Warren held her defiant gaze for a few moments before relenting. 

“Fine. I’ve heard it’s ...okay” He mumbled reluctantly as Layla walked back over to the couch before flopping gracefully onto it and throwing her legs over Warren’s lap. “By all means get comfy.” He murmured as she nestled into the couch some more and pulled out a blanket from her bag draping it over both of them. 

“Great. I will.” Layla said with a glint in her eye as she started the show. She settled in burrowing under the blankets and getting Warren comfortable beneath her. She glanced at Warren while the theme song to Yuri on Ice!!! played on the TV, smiled shyly at an unaware Warren before she turned back to the show. The smile never really fading from her face that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hydrangea: Emotion; Understanding 
> 
> As always grammar mistakes are mine
> 
> Also thanks to everyone who has read and left kudos... I promise I will reply soon!


	3. Begonia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Layla has a nightmare. She doesn't want to call Warren. Except that she really wants to call Warren.

She stood there shaking. Sweat broke over her brow and ran down her skin. Rage. That’s what she felt coursing through her body. Everything was gone. People were dying and no one seemed to care. She was all alone looking out. She wanted to scream at the slaughter, at the evil committed in front of her. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t move.

Layla woke with a flutter in her chest. Her body hot and sweaty. Every muscle tense. She took a few shaky deep breaths trying to release the soreness from her jaw from clenching it so tight. She sat up slowly, and methodically stretched her neck from side to side. After, her head hung down as she continued to breathe hoping the images receded to distant memories, rather than feeling as if she was experiencing the horror all over again. The nightmares had been coming with less frequency, but every now and then they hit her fierce and the memories and feelings came back almost as strong as the original experience. She looked at the clock next to her and the three a.m. time seemed to mock her. Sleep would most likely allude her for the rest of the night. She gathered her blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders and walked to her chair in the living room sitting down and staring into her quiet apartment. 

She had a ritual. She would wake up, sit in her chair, and try to calm down. If she couldn’t, her best friend Ativan would be taken. After the weight off her chest settled she grabbed a book or another form of entertainment and tried to escape her own life, her own body, her own experiences. It was a relatively good system. She got quality reading or TV watching done and had a coping mechanism to, you know, somewhat get through the nightmares. 

And yet, wrapped in her blanket trying to shake off the memories, she didn’t want to read a book, or watch a show, or escape. She wanted to talk to someone. Layla sat staring at the wall opposite her chair for twenty minutes debating if she should dial his number. It seemed weak and, maybe, cliche, to call up Warren at three thirty in the morning and breakdown or to let him know she was feeling anything other than sunshine and happiness. These were her problems, her demons, and she didn’t want to burden anyone else with this. Especially since the past three months had been good and easy and familiar. Their Tuesday night ritual in place after the first unannounced visit to Warren’s flat from her months ago. They talked a lot and almost every Friday night Warren invited her to come have drinks with his fellow teachers to complain about their students. But despite the regularity of their talks, they had both avoided talking about their pasts; the experiences that led them to Scotland and cut them off from their support systems. They avoided how they both left the traditional hero gig for something else. 

Yet, her finger hovered over his name on her phone. She took a deep breath and pushed call. The ringing began and her heart started beating faster. He was her friend, she reminded herself. Her best friend, if she’s being truly honest. This is what best friends did for each other. 

“Layla?” His scratchy voice filled her ear. 

“Hey, sorry to wake you.” Layla whispered as she played with the corner of her quilt. 

“Wake me?” Warren teased slightly, sleep still making his speech slightly slurred. “I have been partying all night. Like always. I’m a bad boy remember?” 

Layla gave a shaky laugh, her body relaxing slightly into her chair. “Of course, well then I’m sorry to interrupt your party filled night.” 

“I’m sure I’ll forgive you eventually.” Warren said. A silence lingered before Warren cleared his throat. “Are you okay?” He finally asked. 

“Uhm. Yeah, relatively.” Layla replied hesitantly and scrunched her face for being vague and awkward.

“Relatively….” Warren paused. “Relatively? Relative to what exactly? Like are there specific parameters here. Is one side like a puppy getting a sprained ankle and the other like Voldemort killing your parents?” He asked. 

“I knew you were reading Harry Potter during your breaks at The Paper Lantern! You refused to admit it and I finally have proof that you read and enjoyed the books.” Layla said somewhat triumphantly momentarily distracted from the tightness in her chest. The dried cool sweat covering her brow. 

“Woah woah, I did not admit to reading Harry Potter. But it’s pretty hard to escape Potter knowledge, especially here in Edinburgh. So you have no proof that I have ever read or enjoyed Harry Potter.” Warren shot back. 

“What?” Layla exclaimed. “I literally saw you reading Prisoner of Azkaban in high school. When I was at your flat the other day I saw the series on your bookshelf. You’re such a liar.” 

“You’re calling me a liar?” Warren asked playfully. 

“Only because you’re lying.” Layla finished finally with a small smile. Yeah, she made the right decision calling Warren. Silence lingered between them again. This time, however, the silence was companionable. 

“I, uh, have nightmares sometimes.” Layla finally said. She had never told anyone this. It was easy to do now though. At night. Over the phone. To Warren. “It’s not a, like, every night thing, but it’s…” Layla trailed off. How does she describe sweat, and fear, and bodily responses to the things she witnessed. Especially when she felt bad for feeling this way. After all she didn’t live or die through it, only saw it. She took another deep breath to steady herself. 

“It’s enough I’m sure.” Warren finally replied for her. 

“Yeah. It is.” A beat passed between them before Layla started up again. “I usually read Harry Potter to help me get through it,” Layla fibbed somewhat. She had read Harry Potter a few times after particularly bad flashbacks, but it wasn’t her go to. She wanted to lighten the mood again. She wanted to feel comfortable. Witty banter with Warren always seemed to do the trick. “I thought I could talk to you about it, but I am not talking about Harry Potter with someone who has never read it.” She continued in her teasing. 

“Clearly you need more friends. The one you have here is letting you down. Seeing as he’s never read HP. That’s like being friends with a squib” Warren deadpanned. 

“I can’t believe you’re still lying about this! You just used the word squib! Ugh, you suck. I called you to make me feel better and I get lies and teasing.” Layla exclaimed as she heard Warren huff out a chuckle. 

“Also you know that there’s nothing wrong with being a squib, right?” Layla asked suddenly. 

“Oh, god.” Warren groaned at her. “I’m going back to sleep. I am not staying up to listen to you talk about a series I know nothing about.” Warren told her barely holding in his laughter. Layla rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her and settled into her chair. 

“Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep.” Layla told him. 

“You sure you’re okay? Relatively?” He asked stifling a yawn. 

“Yeah, I’m...better now. Thanks, Liar.” She said softly and kindly. The darkness that had threatened to overwhelm her with the memories she woke up to didn’t crowd her now. Now it was peaceful. Her body felt more relaxed. 

“Anytime, Sunshine.” He replied before hanging up the phone. 

Layla got up from the chair and stretched her body. She walked over to her small bookcase across from her trusty chair and pulled out her copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban. She sat back down in her chair and opened the book reading the worn pages and smiling slightly to herself. She paused after the first chapter and picked up her phone. Four-thirty a.m. greeted her when she looked down at it. She unlocked her phone and pulled up her texts. She debated sending a text to Warren after she already woke him up, but went ahead and decided it was worth it. She had interrupted his night anyways. 

\-----  
To HotHead:  
4:35am: Thank you, Warren. I guess I owe you coffee even though youre a liar  
4:36am: Seriously, though, thank you  
\-----  
Layla woke up to her phone vibrating. At some point she had fallen asleep reading in her chair. A first after a nightmare and noticed it was almost eight a.m. Her phone buzzed again and she sat up from her spot glancing at the notification.  
\-----  
From HotHead:  
7:55am: You do owe me coffee and like an hour of sleep  
7:57am: That was a joke. You owe me nothing. I’m always here for you, Lay.  
7:59am: God. Mini-stronghold just asked me if I was feeling alright. I look “tired.” This is your fault. He’s talking to me because of you.  
\-----  
Layla smirked at the messages before slowly heading to her bed, crawling under the covers, and curling up around her pillows.  
\-----  
To HotHead:  
8:10am: That’s what you get you secret potterhead  
\----

She drifted off easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Begonia: Dark and unpleasant thoughts that distract you from your happiness and joy & Gratitude and giving thanks for a favor from someone else
> 
> Once again the grammar mistakes are definitely ALL mine. As a person who struggles with PTSD, I tried to make it realistic as possible from Layla's perspective. I don't think reaching out for help is ever burdensome, but it's hard to convince myself of that in the middle of the night and so I wanted Layla to struggle with that a bit. 
> 
> Anyways... more of Layla's past few years will be revealed soon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudoing (is kudo-ing a word? No?), and commenting!


	4. Petunia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Layla finds out Warren has a date and she handles it like an adult (but she really doesn't want to).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this chapter is a little disjointed from the previous story as I am trying to move this along (after a... ridiculously long time). This entire work will be organized more as snapshots during this time rather than one seamless story, but they will be in linear order and hopefully not too awkward. Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos! I appreciate them all so much and hope to update a bit more now that I have some more time on my hands. 
> 
> Also, this chapter is a bit shorter since the next one is a bit of a beast.
> 
> All my love,  
> SleepyBanshee

He has a date. He has a date? Layla glanced at her phone re-reading the message from Warren. Layla should’ve expected this. It’s not like she thought he would never date. But, maybe, she had thought that he would...wait for her? As ridiculous as that sounded. Layla had all but begrudgingly admitted that Warren had captured her heart over their second Tuesday night ritual. Warren had bought all of her favorite snack food and kept it in her own cabinet as well as noticed new plants lined up on his kitchen windowsill. Layla shook her head at the thought that her heart was so easily captured with food and plants. But it wasn’t entirely inaccurate. 

Yet, Layla knew it was more than that. It was that she felt safe and alive when she was with him. The fear and panic that gnawed at her for so long after witnessing the devastation subsided. It wasn’t so much that a man had saved her. She was every bit a hero/sidekick in her own right (god, that dichotomy still really pissed her off), but she felt that with Warren she could have any emotion and it would be okay. She didn’t have to craft a carefully built facade. She could be Layla, all parts of the messy, fearful, force of nature, sunshine girl. 

She read the message again. 

From HotHead  
4:15 pm: Lay, need to cancel our Tuesday movie night. Had to reschedule a date and we couldn’t find any other time this week. You get to pick the movie and the food for the next two weeks since I am canceling! 

\--------

Layla sat in her worn chair and re-read the message for the umpteenth time. Nope, she was not going to do this. She was going not going to be this person. She had no claim on Warren. She needed a friend more than she needed a significant other and she would support Warren no matter what, as he did with her. 

To HotHead  
5:00pm: No problem. Have fun!!!!!! 

\------- 

Layla turned her phone on silence and pulled on leggings, a baggy shirt, and grabbed her massive coat. Usually, Layla had a strict rule that she only ran if she was being chased, but boxing, Layla loved boxing. She loved the exhaustion she felt after a particularly grueling session. She liked the slow build of muscles she could see forming on her biceps. She liked that she could hit, and grunt, and, at times, yell, and no one batted their eyes. And, wow, did Layla want to hit and grunt and yell at something right now. 

The gym she went to most weeks was a short walk away and primarily run by women intended for women. Another thing that made Layla dedicated to boxing weekly. She normally went to a class but today all she needed were gloves and a bag. The place was shockingly empty for a Monday night after work. But Layla relished it. She put in her headphones and lost herself for an hour. She didn’t think about her heart, Warren, or what she had seen in the past that still kept her up at night. She thought about two things: jabbing and punching. An hour later Layla started to cool down with light stretches and slowly came back to her reality. She didn’t feel….better, exactly. But she felt a little more centered.

Of course, that lasted for about two minutes. Because then she reached for her phone and saw that she had three missed calls from Will Stronghold. The centered feelings she had just worked for an hour to achieve left in the seconds it took to read the notifications. Because she hadn’t spoken to or seen Will Stronghold for two and a half years and that was a decision that she was more than comfortable with. Layla decided that her strategy of avoidance might serve her well here. She put her phone away and walked to a small takeout place that had some of her favorite Mediterranean food. She carefully balanced her bag in one hand as she unlocked her apartment door. The soft glow of her entry light greeted her. Layla put her keys on the hook by her door, toed off her tennis shoes, and shuffled to the kitchen before shedding her coat scarf, and beanie. She all but collapsed on her favorite chair with her takeout before she turned on the TV and put on a familiar television show in the background. 

Layla finished her food more slowly than strictly necessary. She washed her fork and put the rest of her food in the fridge for leftovers. She took a quick shower and put on her most loved and trusted flannel pajama set. If she had to deal with her ex-boyfriend the same day she found out the person she had a giant crush on is dating, she was going to be as comfortable as possible. 

She grabbed her phone and saw a few more missed calls from Will and a text from Magenta. That, more than anything, gave her pause. 

Magenta was all for Layla’s decision to become a hermit. They exchanged emails once a week but had an unspoken rule not to call or text. Layla needed time and space and nature and Magenta was nothing if not loyal and understanding. Starting to worry that something bad had actually happened, Layla let out a deep breathe she was not aware she had been holding before swiping her phone and reading the text. 

\------------

From: Magenta is the Besta:  
8:00 pm: Call me as soon as you get this. Your dad got into an accident--I’m on my way to him, but Will called me when he couldn’t get up with you. Will says your dad is okay but in the hospital. Call me!!!!!


	5. Daffodil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Layla rushes to see if her dad is okay.

After a nine-hour flight, Layla felt disgusting. She still had another four-hour flight before she made it to California. She didn’t like New York, it was too industrial. But travel by plane was the fastest way to the states by far. The layover was only two hours, but Layla shook her leg impatiently. 

After Magenta’s text, she called her back immediately before booking a flight for home. Her father had apparently had a heart attack while driving but was doing okay. Magenta was with him and so was Will. Layla barely paused to get her passport and a change of clothes before she was out the door. Now, she had about five more hours before she was even close to seeing her dad. She smelled from her trip to her boxing gym and all she wanted to do was give her dad a hug, make sure he was really okay, and take a shower before collapsing into a bed for a nap. 

She had checked her phone the second she had landed in New York and Magenta had texted updates. Apparently, there were no major blockages that required surgery, but her Dad was still pretty out of it. Magenta, the amazing friend she was, was texting updates every thirty minutes - regardless if Layla could see them or not while in the air. 

Now Layla was willing her flight to miraculously leave early and only take a couple of hours so she could see her dad was okay with her own eyes. Layla’s anxiety was high and she kept thinking through all of the worst-case scenarios. Unfortunately, her brain didn’t need to get that imaginative since she had seen almost every possible worst case scenario - at least it felt that way. The truth was there were plenty of terrible things that she had not seen, but what she had seen kept replaying in her mind. Except it was her father dying in a gruesome way just as the village she had lived in during her stint as a “hero” had. It wasn’t logical, but neither was anxiety. 

Layla idly played a game on her phone not really paying attention to her surroundings. She was concentrating on listening for her boarding call and nothing else. So she didn’t necessarily register that someone had sat down right next to her. She studiously looked at her game and kept her ears alert, but everything else was unimportant. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when she felt as if she was being watched that she decided to look up from her phone. Her leg slowed as she finally looked up from her game. She checked the screen in front of her and the boarding area, making sure she hadn’t missed anything, before turning to her side. There in all of his amazing glory sat none other than Warren Peace. His hair was tied haphazardly back and his clothes looked wrinkled. For a second, Layla was convinced that she was hallucinating. Her logical mind worked out that this was a symptom of worsening anxiety. But then Warren took her hand in his. The warmth he always emitted enclosed over her hand. And Layla took a shaky breath. 

“What are you doing here, Warren?” Layla asked quietly. 

“Magenta and Stronghold called. I had a faculty member at the school who owed me a favor and his hero power let me get here quicker than normal. He didn’t have enough juice to get to California or I would’ve had him take us straight to your dad. I got a ticket for your flight.” 

“But…” Layla trailed off. 

“You thought I’d let you go through this alone?” Warren asked as he slung his arm over the back of her chair. Layla immediately relaxed into his hold and rested her head on his shoulder. A few tears rolled down Layla’s cheeks. But she quickly brushed them off. She didn’t want to break down. Not here, surrounded by so many people, without any immediate nature to recharge her. Not when she had to focus on getting to her dad as soon as possible. 

So, Layla laid in Warren’s warmth and tried to relax. Somehow the horrifying images she was conjuring of her dad were slightly less terrible now that Warren was by her side. His warmth and sturdiness settled her nerves.

“Thank you,” Layla whispered into his neck. The arm around the back of her chair curled around her tightly. 

“You never have to ask, Layla. I’ll always be here for you.” And Layla felt her throat constrict. She tried to swallow down the frog in her throat, she reminded herself that he was dating other people now, but regardless if Layla would be able to outwardly love this wonderful man, at least he would be here for her as a friend. They loved each other, even if he wasn’t in love with her. And at this moment - that was all that mattered. 

The boarding process started twenty minutes later and Warren and Layla walked together down the to the plane. His hand holding onto her tightly. They grabbed seats together and got settled before Layla started nodding off - even before the plane had finished boarding. 

Warren gently brushed her hair out of her face before pushing the seat rest that was dividing them up and folding Layla into his warmth. He kissed the top of her head and whispered a quick “get some sleep, Lay.” before feeling the acceleration of the plane drowned out any other whispers from Warren. 

Suddenly this day didn’t seem so hard, or scary, or terrible. Her dad was okay for now, Magenta had her back, and Warren was taking care of her. It wasn’t as if this assuaged all of her fears and anxiety, but it felt tolerable now. It had been quite a long time since Layla had people to take care of her and the last thought she had before drifting off was a simple question: how she had survived reasonably well for years without this human next to her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daffodil: unrequited love, regard, and chivalry
> 
> All mistakes are mine! Thank you for reading, giving kudos, and commenting!!! They make my day! 
> 
> -Sleepy Banshee

**Author's Note:**

> I don't currently have a beta so all mistakes are mine. I definitely wanted to revisit these characters that I loved as a kid and see how they would deal with Adulthood. Also, I have only ever visited Scotland...I don't live there...so keep that in mind. 
> 
> Ivy Represents: Wedded Love, Fidelity, Friendship, Affection  
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> All my love,
> 
> -SleepyBanshee


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